HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, RICKER!!!
How is it possible that my baby boy is 13?!? A teenager! That's just crazy talk!
Ricker is now tall (5'8"), wears size 13 (!!!) shoes, sports a real-live, shaveable mustache and a peach-fuzzy beard, and talks in a low voice that sometimes still cracks (which is NOT cute in any way, shape, or form, so giggling is prohibited). I'm both thrilled to know and enjoy the man that he is becoming and grieving that his boyhood went by way, way too fast!
Just so you know, I could tell you some really awesome, completely inappropriate puberty stories here, but I'm saving them for his wedding rehearsal dinner.
Ricker is a total dreamboat. He's funny and friendly, sweet and generous, relaxed and easy to be with, gregarious and upbeat, and such a delight to have around the house. He adores his papa and still kisses on the lips in public. He very inclusive of others and yet competitive, too. He's a music maniac and I'm SO glad that he's not afraid to sing LOUDLY and even dance in public. The guy has so little of the typical teenage self-consciousness. He's just a super kid... I mean young man. My young man. And pretty soon I'm going to have to cross off "young", too.
Rickerman, you make my heart happy. You are a prince among men. You make me so proud. You are such a wonderful person, a total wild animal with too much testosterone (I love that about you!), and I love how much you love Jesus, son. I love you, meatball!